


Love me back to life

by VeronicaFerCard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint Is a Good Bro, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaFerCard/pseuds/VeronicaFerCard
Summary: A few hours ago he trusted a stranger for the first time in decades and entered a car. Now he is face to face with a small, old woman, with white hair and a face full of wrinkles, and goddamn it all, he knows her. He knows who she is.His baby sister.





	1. The welcome I receive with every start

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in 2014, following the second after credits scene and completely ignores the movies that come after it.

 

 

  
_And darkness is a harsh term don't you think_  
_And yet it dominates the things I see_

_..._

_It seems that all my bridges have been burned_  
_But you say 'That's exactly how this grace thing works'_  
_It's not the long walk home that will change this heart_  
_But the welcome I receive with every start_

 

* * *

 

He has been wandering the museum for almost two hours and staring at his own face for about five minutes when it happens.

“Oh, my god! It’s you,” says the voice beside him. His entire body goes instantly tense; his muscles rigid.

The first instinct is to attack. Quickly drive his closed fist into the trachea. Cut off air supply. Neutralize threat. Eliminate. No. He doesn’t do that anymore. He doesn’t have to.

Still, it’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to fight the panic; the preservation instinct - slowly returning – to flight, to be safe. But he has been nothing but a soldier for longer than he can literally remember, so he stands his ground. He doesn’t move, barely dares to blink as the man gets slightly closer.

“I – I know who you are,” the man confesses in a whisper. Fear as present in the voice as _he_ feels it inside himself. It is simpler to recognize fear than it is his own face staring back at him from several directions.

His stomach rolls unpleasantly as bile burns at the back of his throat.

He can’t cause a scene, but he can escape. He should leave.

The AC does nothing to lessen the nervous sweat coming from the man. And just as he’s about to leave, the fellow, who looks like he is in his late fifties speaks again, “You’re family.”

He can’t help it then. He turns – whiplash fast – to face his companion.

“What?” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. It is hoarse and it scratches at his dry throat. The man’s eyes are huge on his face. He clears his throat and tries again. “What d’ya say?”

The man swallows audibly. “Y-you’re family,” he repeats, “ _my_ family.”

He shakes his head. It’s not possible. If he is the one they say he is, then surely, everyone he’s even known is long gone. Everyone except –

Maybe this is a ploy.

But it can’t be. He checked. Rogers is still in the hospital.

Steve Rogers stares down at him from all around. He stars back, confused. For a moment it feels as if they are alone; all three of them. Rogers, the ghost, and whatever he is now.

A sense of dizziness creeps up on him as his eyes wander from one image to the other. Big panels, small photos, soundless videos, Rogers, Stevie… Captain America.

His chest expends with air but, nonetheless, it feels like he can’t breathe.

A hand touches him, and it is only by the skin of his teeth that he manages not to tear that entire foreign arm from its socket.

“-cle James,” the man’s voice finally breaches through the noise in his head, “Are you alright?”

He looks at the man’s face and kind blue eyes stare back at him. They look familiar. He can’t place them.

“Who are you?”

The man smiles tentatively, hopeful. “I’m –” he hesitates a little before finally announcing, “I’m Rebeca’s son.”

-

She is eighty six years old. She was born in the cold November of 1928. Miraculously, death was not after Steve that winter.  The memory comes to him in a tsunami; it shakes something inside of him. The whole country almost starved to death the following years, but the baby made it through.

Rebeca.

There she is. In front of him, crying and smiling, and he doesn’t know what to do.

A few hours ago he trusted a stranger for the first time in decades and entered a car. Now he is face to face with a small, old woman, with white hair and a face full of wrinkles, and goddamn it all, he knows her. He knows who she is.

His baby sister.

“Goodness,” she exclaims, clutching at the soft fabric of her flowery dress, just above her heart. “You’re alive!”

Only one of his hands is capable of shaking. And it does not fail at it.

“Re-Rebeca?” His voice is a whisper, but William – the man who drove him here – gave him water so it doesn’t hurt to speak this time.

She nods vigorously. “Bucky! Oh, dear Lord!” Rebeca is shaking all over and he is afraid she is going to break with the force of it. “You’re alive.”

Just as she takes a step towards him another old woman comes out of the house. “Rebeca, what is all of this shrieking about?” She complains as she takes small, careful steps with the help of a walker.

Another loose patch of memory pieces itself together inside his mind. And there he sees another child, brown hair, blue eyes, and yellow dresses for Sunday church.

“Alice,” he says.

The woman stops on her way to them and finally looks up at him. She pales, but she holds her ground better than Becca. She neither smiles nor cries, but her eyes are fixed on his, and in them he sees recognition.

 _It’s not so hard_ , part of him thinks absently. Unlike the two of them, he still looks more or less the same.

After a few more moments of silence, William decides to take charge. He clears his throat and the rest of them realize at once he’s still there. “Aunt Ally, mom,” William steals a glance at him but refrains from addressing him in any way. “I think we should take this inside.”

Internally, he immediately reprehends his own recklessness. The last six hours have been so surreal he’s forgotten to look over his shoulder. Now the paranoia wants to take over again, but he pushes it down.

“He’s right,” he agrees.

“Yes, yes,” says Rebeca before grabbing his right wrist and tugging him along with her. He scans their surrounding before going inside. They’re inside a gated community. For senior citizens, William has told him.

Rebeca and Alice were the only seniors out of their home.

He tamped down the feeling of being in danger and tried to leave his fear at the threshold.

Alice sat down first – with effort – on the light green armchair. She didn’t make a sound of complaint but he could see her bones protesting against the movement.  Ten more years and she’ll have been on this Earth for a century. And she looks every year of it.

Were they really meant to get this far?

“I – I understand,” Rebeca starts once they are all sitting, “you must be confused.” Her eyes are so gentle on his he can’t bare to look at them for long. “William saw it on the TV,” she explains.

“Then it was all over the internet,” William clarifies it further. “There were some pictures.” His eyes go wide in spite of himself; he can imagine what is in those. The girls should not see that. William notices his discomfort and quickly puts him at ease. “I didn’t show it to mom or Aunt Ally. But I recognized your face.” He scoffs at himself. “I mean, how couldn’t I? Aside from the History books and the museums – you’re on the family albums.”

He feels like he should say something. They all seem to be expecting something from him. He has no idea what to give them. There’s nothing to offer, except, “I don’t remember.”

Rebeca deflates a little beside him, her arched spine hunches even more. She lets out a tiny _oh_ he’s sure he’s the only one who hears it.

“You remember us,” Alice says in a no-nonsense manner he is certain he’s heard before. Maybe it was his mother. Maybe he is projecting all of his ghosts into these two women.

Alice is not soft and open like Rebeca. But there is no pity, anger, or fear in her eyes either. He has been extensively trained in how to read people. Nevertheless, this fragile old lady in front of him is a complete mystery.

He sweeps over every dusty corner of his brain to try and find something to give her. He almost gives up but then, “We were four,” he tells them. Rebeca perks up again; she nods, hopeful. It encourages him to dig further. He knows they were four and that doesn’t include Rogers. 

He glances at William, but the man is about three decades too young.

“Rebeca,” he begins to count from the youngest up. Rebeca’s hair looked like his. She used to follow him around. The night she was born he held her in his arms. He got to choose her name.  “Alice.” Quiet like a church mouse. Serious. Her hair was lighter. She needs… she needs… she needs glasses to read.

There is one more. There’s another one of them. They all wait silently as he tries to remember. He starts again. “Rebeca, Alice…”

Steve didn’t die that year. People were eating their bullets all around the country. For the first time in his life, he sees his father cry. Hunger doesn’t take the baby because his mother has milk. But death is at their door and it takes someone else.

“Mary.” The name sounds like a question and it’s answered with a sob from Rebeca.

“Yes,” she confirms, “yes, dear.” Tears stream down her face but she pays them no mind. “That’s it. That’s us! That’s the Barnes kids.”

“All but one,” Alice reminds them. “If you’re counting the Barnes kids you’re missing a name.”

He knows what she wants.

_Your name… is James Buchanan Barnes._

He doesn’t feel like the man from the museum. He doesn’t feel like he is worth dying for like Rogers was so willing to. But here is Alice, with her stern face, who’s always been way more mature than every other kid around her. Here’s Rebeca, caring her whole heart on her sleeve and not give a rat’s ass to who sees it.

He doesn’t feel like Sergeant James Barnes either. But he’s washed their butts. He’s put them to bed. He’s made them laugh at church. He doesn’t remember these things but he knows them.

“Rebeca, Alice,” he starts to count the Barnes kids again. Just to be sure he’s got it right, “Mary –” This is it. He knows it somehow, that if he says it he will never be able to take it back. So he takes in a shaky breath, he looks at his sisters, and he finally admits it out loud, “James.”

“Welcome back, Bucky,” Alice says while Rebeca cries and uses all of her strength to squeeze his right hand.

None of them acknowledges William when he gets up and heads to the kitchen announcing he is making tea.

-

William brings them all tea but doesn’t stay after he pours each one of them a cup. Bucky can see by his face that he wanted to stay, but both Alice and Rebeca shooed him out the door, saying he was too young for that conversation.

Well, Rebeca joked. Alice limited herself to asking him for some space.

Bucky knows the reason William didn’t want to leave him alone with his family. He was tense and stealing glances at Bucky the whole drive from the museum. He knows what the Winter Solider is and he’s scared; as much as he is thrilled to give his mama her brother back.

Part of Bucky thinks he should leave as well. He shouldn’t be left alone with two people who can barely lift themselves up on their own. But the other half of him scoffs at the idea that he would ever lay a finger on the two women. He knows them. They are important to him.

 _So was Steve, and you smashed his face in,_ a voice inside his head supplies.

There is so much information flowing around in his brain he is having trouble grasping anything.

The asset has already registered that the man left and he is alone with the two old females. One of them is talking – oblivious to his internal turmoil – the other observes with keen eyes.

Behind his eyes, two girls hold their mother’s hand and a man salutes them a goodbye.

“Rebeca, don’t.” Alice’s urgent tone cuts through the fog and Bucky is back in the room with them in time to see her outstretched hand trying to prevent Rebeca from touching him.

Rebeca switches her puzzled gaze from Bucky to Alice. “What on Earth Alice?!”

“He wasn’t here,” Alice explains. “You would’ve startled him.” And he might have killed you because of it. She doesn’t say it, but he hears it, and he agrees.

Bucky carefully places his mug back on the tray on the coffee table. “I have to go.”

“No,” Rebeca disagrees vehemently. “That’s nonsense. James Buchanan, you just got here!”

“It’s not safe,” Bucky tries to argue.

“Are you saying you could hurt us?” Alice asks. He studies her but she remains unreadable.

When he comes up with nothing he shrugs. “I don’t know. But it’s not something I wanna find out.”

“We’re not going to throw you out, Bucky,” Rebeca counters. Then she turns to glare at Alice. “We are _not_ throwing our brother out.”

“ _Our brother_ put Captain America in the hospital.”

Alice is a very practical and lucid person, for her age. Her voice is clear and she’s got all her wits about her. She is in _way_ better shape them him mentally, and so he leaves the final say to her.

Becca is so emotional she might as well be a female version of Rogers.

Bucky’s brain is Swiss cheese. He needs a voice of reason and Alice fits the bill. “What do I do?”

“You must be confusing me with Winifred Barnes,” Alice says. Rebeca rolls her eyes. “I cannot tell you what to do. You are a grown man.”

“Oh, please Alice,” Becca admonishes. “Have some—”

“But I need to know,” Alice continues as if Rebeca hadn’t spoken, “If my sister and I will be safe in your presence.”

Bucky looks down at his hands. He is wearing gloves and he studies the leather as he thinks of what to say. He has had nightmares pretty much every time he goes to sleep, and they have been violent enough to have him punching through walls in his sleep more than once.

He was shaped for violence, he knows. But that’s not all he is. If that were the case he would have chewed his gun. There’s more. There’s more to him. James Barnes was a complex human and goddamn it, so is he.

He doesn’t know about redemption or atoning for one’s sins or any of that crap. But life is giving him another chance. A man found him in a museum and now he is reunited with family he didn’t remember having three weeks ago.

There must be a reason for all of this. Steve Rogers unlocked his mind with a single sentence. These women can do a lot more. And god, he used to put them to sleep!

Bucky finally takes off the gloves after a few minutes of silence. “This is what I am,” he says without looking at them. “No matter how much I scream, if I’m having a nightmare, don’t go near me. When I wake up, it takes some time to remember who and where I am. You’re a spot in my mind. I will never be the person you knew again.”

Alice looks his hand for only a split second before turning her eyes back to his face as he speaks. Rebeca keeps staring at the metal long after he is finished. Her eyes are shiny. Bucky can see by the way she holds herself she wants to reach out, but she is not sure if she can.

It’s a few moments later when she finally speaks. “Neither are we.” She sounds so angry even Alice looks surprised. “Look at us, James. Do we look like the girls you saw before shipping out? I know,” she stretches a shaky hand, but it only hovers above his, “you’ve suffered horribly. But we’ve seen pain too. You can’t keep us out.” She takes in a sharp breath and places her gentle palm on his metal hand before turning to Alice. “You can’t turn your back on family.”

Alice looks at the both of them. “Do you want to stay here? We don’t fight aliens.” He is not sure what she is talking about, but Bucky recognizes an olive branch when he sees it. He nods. Rebeca squeezes his hand.

“But we do have Wi-Fi,” Becca chimes in with an exaggerated wink.

Bucky frowns at her. “Why-what?”

Rebeca smiles and pats his knee. “That’s the internet, dear.”

“Oh.” His lips curl up in a tiny, self-deprecating smile. “That one I know.”

“Good,” Alice says, as she grips her walker and slowly gets up and starts heading down a corridor. “You can use it to tell us what kind of mess Steve Rogers has gotten into this time.”

Rebeca nudges him, “And how he’s dragged you along again.”

“Wait. So he really _is_ this reckless?”

“Well,” Becca turns to him with a serious face. “Bucky, dear, would you like us to tell you things, or do you prefer to wait and see if they come back?” Bucky thinks about it for a moment. There’s no guarantee anything will ever come back, so he simply shrugs and Rebeca continues, “You see, Steve Rogers once jumped onto a grenade.”

-

The first night Bucky doesn’t sleep at all. There is a spare room, Alice and Rebeca usually reserve for Becca’s grandkids, and that is where they tell him he will stay. He’s got nothing but the clothes on his back, and they don’t have anything that’ll fit him unless he opts for one of Alice’s sleeping gowns, which he does not.

Alice has to practically drag Rebeca from the room after she finished touring the four walls with Bucky. 

“For the love of God, woman, let him be,” she admonishes as she takes hold of one of Becca’s writs and uses her other hand to move the walker ahead of her.

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky promises to Rebeca. He doesn’t dare make such high promises to Alice. He has a feeling – or perhaps a memory – that she can smell bullshit a mile away.

 _She’d been a helluva Winter Soldier,_ he contemplates once he is alone. Then mentally kicks himself for even thinking something like that.

Bucky shakes his head to clear it and then finally takes in the room. Blank walls, a small window, single bed covered with an old blue comforter. Two pillows and a nightstand that’s seen better decades on the left side of the bed.

He spaces out staring at nothing for a few minutes.

The grenade story was in a letter he sent to his family in ’44. Rebeca tells him it was redacted because he was not supposed to be talking about Captain America on his mail, but they got the gist of it in the end.

As she tells the story, it feels as if he remembers writing those words. But it is more likely that he is projecting, so Bucky keeps a lead on his expectations. Now that he is alone is not so easy to pretend he isn’t missing years upon years worth of personal information.

Good god, he doesn’t know his own birthday. And the museum unhelpfully supplied two different years for it.

Bucky sags on the bed suppressing a sigh. He rubs his hands on his face and tries to think of what to do from here on.

He’s got a family and a past that does not run red with people’s blood. People cared about the man he thinks he was, and it seems like they still care about him these days.

He closes his eyes and tries to remember. If he holds his breath and stays still it feels like something is coming towards him. Old voices and laughter resonate around in his skull. Casual arms thrown around shoulders, dresses and braids, dancing, red lipsticks, red dresses, red faces, red, red, red…

Bucky opens his eyes and gasps for air when he finally allows it back in and out of his lungs. He is shaking like a leaf again and it feels as if he’s never going to stop.

He tunes in the noises coming from outside the bedroom as Alice and Rebeca move around the house. They are in different rooms for the best part of an hour, until they reunite again for dinner. The walls are thin and even without the serum Bucky would be able to hear them.

“I’m gonna call, Bucky,” Rebeca announces after they have finished preparing what seems to be a stew from the smell of it. A few moments later she is knocking on the door. “Bucky, dinner’s ready,” she says, but it is not an old lady’s voice he hears it.

Bucky’s breath gets caught up in his throat as the vivid image of a girl on her early teens standing at a threshold flashes before him. He looks at the closed door. That’s not what he sees it.

 _“Bucky, come on! Ma let me help her today! Come! You got to try the salad; I’ve dressed it all by myself. My own secret recipe. Come on, Bucky._ Bucky --”

A heavier pound on the door startles him from his daydream. “Bucky, are you alright in there?”

Bucky opens and closes his mouth but nothing comes out for a second or two. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. His human hand fists the comforter’s and its soft fabric grounds him. “I’m fine,” he manages to let it out, after a couple of tries.

“Are you sure?” Rebeca doesn’t sound convinced but she doesn’t enter either. They didn’t give him a key to lock himself in there, but they respect him enough to allow him a private space. “It’s root vegetable stew.” She has one of those convincing motherly tones. Bucky’s not sure how he knows what those are, he just does. And she has it.

“I’m not hungry, Becca.”

Rebeca inhales sharply on the other side of the door. “Oh,” she lets out. “Well, we’ll leave a plate just in case, then.” Her voice is croaky and it is only after he hears her footsteps moving away Bucky realizes what he just called her.

“Becca,” he repeats to himself.

“I think he’s coming to.” He hears Rebeca in the dining room.

“William said he was really damaged, Rebeca,” Alice counters. It doesn’t sound like she is trying to be mean, just realistic. “He’s suffered repeated trauma to his brain.”

“I remember that,” Rebeca replies. “But he’s just called me Becca.” They shuffle around for another minute and then sit down. The clinking from the cutlery is the only sound for some time. “He’s coming to,” Rebeca says it again.

“The man in there, he looks like James,” Alice says. “But he is not, not on the inside.”

“That’s our _brother_ ,” Rebeca cries out a little louder before hissing angrily, “It’s a miracle. How can you –”

A chair scratches the floor with a screech. “For heaven’s sakes, lock your room tonight. You heard him, he’s dangerous.”

Alice’s walker clicks on the tile as she leaves Rebeca alone.

-

Thirst finally drives him out of the bedroom at around seven in the morning. There are grains of sand in his eyes but Bucky ignores the sensation as he fills up a glass with tap water and drinks it all in one go.

Quiet steps and the absence of the clicks from the walker announce Rebeca’s presence before she speaks, “Feeling better?”

He turns to face her and tries his best to summon up a smile. The way his face stretches itself feels unnatural, and judging by Rebeca’s face, it does not resemble a smile.

“Oh, Bucky,” she sighs. Forgetting any danger he could impose, Becca approaches him and places a delicate hand on his arm. “What has been done to you?”

“I’ll be fine, Becca,” he tries to put her at ease using the nickname.

Rebeca scoffs. “I know that, James,” she says with conviction. “You’re home now.  I want to know what caused this. Why do you still look like this? Who’s been hurting you?”

“I uh – I think, I think they shot me up with something,” Bucky confesses to the best of what he can gather.

“Like Steve?” He nods. The information about Rogers was available at the museum. “Okay, okay,” Rebeca mumbles to herself as she organizes the information in her brain. “And it’s the Nazis? My Will said it was the Nazis who did that in DC.”

“Yeah, sort of. I think Hydra outgrew the Nazis, I don’t know.”

“Do you remember,” she asks hesitantly, “what was done to you?” Her eyes are on the metal arm. She gives his other arm a reassuring squeeze.

“I remember some things,” Bucky confesses. “I know I lost my arm when I fell down the train. I know Rogers was there.” He blinks and in the split second his eyes are closed it feels like he is reliving that moment. “He tried to save me.”

He thinks that’s the reason why he saved Rogers from drowning in the river. It seems they are constantly saving one another.

Rebeca is crying silently when he looks at her. Bucky takes a deep breath, and then, ever so slowly, he reaches out with his left hand and swipes a tear away with his thumb.

“There, there,” he says. And although her smile is welcome, there is no need for it to prove to Bucky that this is familiar, him wiping her tears, comforting her. “We used to be very close, didn’t we?”

“Oh, Bucky.” Rebeca melts then. She throws her fragile body on him, wrapping her arms around him, even though he’s much too large for her to properly do that. But it doesn’t matter.

She buries her face on his chest and sobs. He hesitates for a moment, and then rests his face atop her head. Rebeca’s hair smells clean and sweet. It’s not a smell he recognizes, it’s not from their past but it calms him. Bucky closes his eyes.

It has been seventy years since he’s last had this. It’s been seventy years since touch was not followed by pain, either his or the person’s. He wants to melt right into her. It’s only his extensive training that prevents his slightly weak knees from giving out and sending them both to the floor.

Rebeca quiets down some moments later, but she makes no move to get away from him. Bucky’s arms lay still by his sides, he is not hugging her but he doesn’t want to step out of her arms either.

“You used to tell me stories to sleep,” she breaks the silence. “Some were made up. But most of them were things you got up to with Steve.” A sniffle. “Those were my favorites.”

When Bucky opens his eyes he finds Alice staring at them from the hall.

-

“You know, when you’re old and you have done it all,” Rebeca says as they eat breakfast. Bucky declined the toast but accepted the tea. “Your husband’s gone, and your child is old enough _his_ children are old enough… You think there’s nothing else.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alice interjects. “I have plenty to do yet.”

“I don’t mean work, Alice,” Rebeca protests before turning to Bucky. “Work is just fine. I own a restaurant, William and his wife take care of it.”

The memory from last night comes up again. “You always liked cooking, right?”

“Yes,” Rebeca perks up. “Indeed, I always have.” She seems radiant and proud of what she’s accomplished. She had a life, he realizes. Unlike him, unlike Steve Rogers, his family lived.

“How, uh,” Buck hesitates, unsure of how to phrase this. “How was – life?”

“Well,” she begins, “I got married when I was twenty-two.” She sighs and closes her eyes, immersed in memories. Part of him yearns for a chance to have that, to look back and see something; anything. “His name was Charles. Everyone called him Charlie. He was a ginger,” Rebeca smiles, “quite the looker.”

“She took one look at him and said that would be her husband,” Alice comments. The three of them have pretty much forgotten about the food on the table.

“Yes, I did,” Rebeca confirms, “and I was right. I have fifty-one years of marriage and a son to prove how right I was. Oh, I wish you had met him. You would have like him, I’m sure of it. He was a conscientious objector. Never killed a soul.”

The tea suddenly threatens to make a comeback inside him. Bucky swallows down bile. He doesn’t deserve this, he shouldn’t be here. He is not the person Rebeca thinks he is. Her husband would have been appalled to even look at him. He is a killer.

The phone rings from the living room. Rebeca gets up to go answer it.

“That must be William, just making sure our brother didn’t kill us in our sleep,” Alice calls out.

“Christ sake’s, Alice,” Rebeca shouts back, sounding mortified.

Neither of them sees him getting up. He shuts the door of the bedroom quietly so that they don't notice that either.

It _is_ William on the phone. Alice is right, he is worried. Bucky can’t really hear the other side of the conversation, but Rebeca tells her son he is being ridiculous and hangs up five minutes later.

It’s not long before she is knocking on his door. She enters before he has the chance to say anything. “Here you are,” Rebeca says as she hands him a tablet. “You know how to use it?”

“I – am not sure,” he says. He’s seen it before, but if he’s ever used one, that information has long been wiped out. “I’ll give it a try.”

“You’ve always enjoyed technology, you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he turns the device on.

Rebeca turns to leave but before she reaches the door she says, “Oh, and if you think you are just going to skip every meal, you have another think coming, James Buchanan. Is that clear?”

Bucky grins. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a salute.

She is about to close the door when she pauses again. “Bucky,” Becca waits for him to look up. She is not smiling anymore, but her eyes look kind. “You are not what they made of you. Remember that.”

Becca closes the door behind her and Bucky spends the next minutes staring at it. He is not used to this, people seeing him. He has been overlooked or invisible for such a long time. Bucky has no idea what to do with someone who can actually read him, who cares.

He decides to put this thought on the backburner and unlocks the tablet again. And it’s stupid, he was in the museum yesterday, but…

The first think Bucky does when he locates de browser is to type in _Steve Rogers_ on the search bar.

-

He spends the rest of the day doing research. He doesn’t fight Becca when she calls him to the kitchen and ends up sitting by the counter as she prepares lunch. It surprises Bucky how independent the two women are for their age.

“We do have someone to check in on us twice a week,” Rebeca explains when he voices his thought. “Peterson came over the day before you showed up. I’ll call him to reschedule his next visit. Since Alice and I are in perfect health, there’ll be no problem.”

“You sure? I don’t want to in –”

”Oh, hush! We are perfectly fine.” Rebeca puts a plate in front of him and stares down at Bucky until he puts down the tablet and picks up the sandwich. She prepares a sandwich for herself and sits down next to him. “Anything interesting in there?” she asks, nodding at the tablet.

Bucky hums an affirmative. “Lots.” He takes another bite and chews methodically. “Alice not coming?”

“She’s napping. She’ll eat later.” Rebeca serves them both water from the jug next to her plate. “What about the people who hurt you? Can you find them?”

“Yeah.” The last thing he wants is to drag her into this mess. But she’s trying to help, so he owes her at least some explanation. “I can trace lots of people with the information I found.”

They are both silent for a long time after that. Bucky finishes his sandwich and declines a second one. Rebeca watches him as she calmly finishes her own meal. Bucky can hear Alice in her room as she gets out of bed.

“Will you go after them?” Rebeca breaks the silence.

“I don’t know.” For the first seventy two hours of his freedom his biggest fear was to get caught and imprisoned again. His concern now is to not lead people to this house. Bucky realizes that if he decides to go after Hydra he can never come back here.

“If your concern is Alice and me, don’t. We can take care of ourselves.” It’s like she can read his mind. It’s terrifying.

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think _you_ don’t understand,” Rebeca shots back, standing up to take their plates to the sink. “You are not protecting us by being self-sacrificing. Steve Rogers was self-sacrificing by keeping his distance. He never once showed up and I bet my teeth he knows very well we’re alive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Bucky. Before you, there was nothing to connect us to him. I’m pretty sure he must have thought it’d be safer if he never came around.” She smiles sadly at him. “You don’t have that choice, dear. We are your family and your identity is not a secret.”

She is right. It doesn’t matter if he stays or not. Hydra knows who he is and it would be easy for them, or anybody else to find his sisters. But he still has an advantage, though. “Becca, if I go after them,” he looks up at her, “would you want me back, knowing what I might do to them?”

“I don’t like violence,” she admits. “But I do think you deserve justice. And I’m afraid you’re the only one who can get it.”

Her words are like absolution from the higher power Bucky was never sure he believed in, and all of the sudden his decision is made. He is not going to kill anyone, but he _is_ going to make them pay.

-

Bucky finally passes out from exhaustion on the fifth day. All he knows is that one minute he is sitting on the bed, staring at the wall as he waits for the tablet to charge, and the next thing he knows he is opening his eyes to find a glass of water on the nightstand. Then he finds Rebeca watching television in the living room and she tells him he’s been asleep for almost ten hours.

She simply smiles at him like it’s just another day for the Barnes’ and asks, “Sleep well?”

Bucky takes a moment to actually answer instead of going for the default ‘I’m fine’ answer. He runs a mental check of his body. His muscles are relaxed. The shoulder Rogers dislocated in the Helicarrier no longer aches. The sand in his eyes is gone. To his complete surprise, he realizes he feels safe in here. And to top it all, Bucky knows what he has to do from now.

“You know what, Becca,” he says and the smile comes up effortlessly for the first time. “I really did.”

Rebeca beams at him. “That’s really good, dear. Now, if you don’t mind me saying –” She reaches forward to a plastic bag on the coffee table and hands it to him, “You should take care of yourself, Bucky. Ma and Da are rolling in their graves at the state of you.”

Bucky looks inside the plastic bag and finds a shaving kit and a package of underwear. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention,” Becca says with a wave of a hand. “William also brought you more clothes.” She nods towards the duffle bag on Alice’s armchair. Bucky knows their schedule by now. He’s already awake enough to remember what day it is, and he knows Alice is playing chess with the couple who lives down the street.

“Chess night?” He asks, just to be sure, as he picks up the duffle bag.

“Chess night,” Rebeca confirms. “Also Grey’s Anatomy night, so be a dear and move away from the TV.”

Much like Chess, Grey’s Anatomy is sacred and Bucky gets out of the living room pretty quickly. He brings the shaving kit and a set of clothes with him to the bathroom, leaving the rest on his bed.

Bucky closes the door and takes a deep breath before stepping in front of the mirror above the sink. What he sees is not a surprise but it still shocks him.

 He looks homeless.

His long hair is a greasy mess of knots. Half his face is hidden behind a thick layer of beard. For a moment Bucky blinks and when he opens his eyes he sees the muzzle covering his mouth again in the reflection. It startles him and he takes an involuntary step back. He shakes his head and when he looks up again the Winter Soldier is gone.

Before he even thinks of it, he is mumbling, “Barnes, James Buchanan; Sergeant; 32557038,” while stepping closer to the mirror again. It’s only the sight of his mouth moving that alerts Bucky to what he is doing.

He brings his right hand up to his bearded cheek and says it again, “Barnes, James Buchanan.” He is on a metal stretcher in a cold, dark room. He says the words; they remind him who he is. “Sergeant, 32557038.” He is looking up at Rogers. “Barnes, James Buchanan.” He is on metal stretcher in a cold, dark room. He’s being interrogated for no information. The words tell him who he is. “Sergeant, 32557038.” He doesn’t know what the numbers mean.

Bucky stops the metal fist a split second before it connects with the mirror. He lowers his hands and uses them to brace himself on the sink, he is careful not to put all his weight in it as he inhales and exhales sharply.

He had to repeat his own name like a mantra. He still lost it in the end.

He’s not going to lose himself ever again. Bucky vows right then and there that no one will ever take away his identity again. He’ll kill whoever tries it.

It takes time, to stop shaking, to open the package of disposable razors, apply foam on his face. He doesn’t take any of these little things for granted. Bucky pays attention to every moment, the first time the blades touch his face, the first patch of skin they reveals in their wake.

Becca’s show is probably long gone by the time he sees the face from the museum staring back at him. The face from the museum with the Winter Soldier’s hair, that’s not right.

Bucky searches the cabinets until he finds a pair of scissors and leaves it by the sink while he takes a shower. The water feels different touching the tender skin on his cheeks.

When he steps out, towel still wrapped around his waist, Bucky uses his right hand to clean the fog from the mirror. He picks up the scissors again and turns this way and that to find where to begin.

“Quit moving,” says a voice in his mind. It sounds like Steve Rogers and Bucky doesn’t even question what it’s doing there. He abides Rogers-memory’s request and starts chopping hair off.

He has no idea what he’s doing, but a few moments later the front door opens and closes announcing Alice’s return – Bucky smirks at his reflection as he puts the scissors down – she’s not the only Barnes coming back.

-

Rebeca gasps and starts crying the moment he steps in the living room.

“Oh, dear Lord.” She clutches at her heart and shakes her head. It feels like the first day all over again, only this time even Alice looks shaken.

“Goodness,” Alice breathes out.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to them. He stares down at his bare feet – he didn’t bother with much besides the underwear, jeans and a dark green T-shirt – and waits for one of them to say something more.

“You look good,” it is Alice who breaks the silence and Bucky’s head snaps up in surprise. The past few days she didn’t hide the fact she is not exactly happy to have him here, but she hasn’t thrown him out and now he’s not sure where they stand. He mumbles a thank you. “Is it really you?”

It’s a loaded question and he doesn’t have a simple answer. Bucky gaps like a fish out of water for the good part of a minute. He is their brother but he’s also the Winter Soldier. He never wanted to go to war, but he did his part when they told him to. He’s killed people to protect good and bad ideals. There are a lot of blank spaces inside his head, does that mean he is not who he thinks he is?

“I – I am,’ Bucky inhales sharply; his eyes sting. Is he James Barnes? Bucky bites down on his bottom lip to stop the trembling, but it’s a useless effort. His sisters are already walking towards him when his knees hit the floor.

They are too old to kneel beside him so he just clings to Rebeca’s waist when she approaches him. The dam breaks and, just like the day _she_ broke down, Bucky sobs his heart out on her clothes. She holds him steady as he hiccups, her warm hand caressing his skull.

“Let it out, dear, let it out,” Rebeca repeats over and over.

A few seconds later another pair of hands rests on his shoulders, human and metal alike. Bucky feels the comforting pressure on the right one. “No one will _ever_ hurt you again,” Alice promises.

And Bucky cries. He cries because these women are not the same girls he’s left a lifetime ago either. They have all changed, but that doesn’t mean they are not the same people. They are still the Barnes, even if Rebeca married and got a new name; even if he was made to forget his.

He squeezes his eyes shut and he sees three kids around a table, waiting for dinner to be put on their plates. He sees a pew with two girls and two boys who can’t sit still, no matter how much their parents angry whisper at them.

It is a long time before Bucky stops crying, and for all of it, his sisters hold him tight as best as they can. His knees protest when he finally stands up and he feels so tired he could sleep for another ten hours, or ten days.

Rebeca drags him to the couch with her and Alice goes to the kitchen, returning with hot cocoa and sitting by his other side instead of taking the armchair.

Becca sighs into her cocoa. Bucky takes a sip of his and has to restrain himself from moaning, it tastes so good, it has been so long. Alice takes small sips with long intervals between them.

The television is off and none of them moves to turn it on. None of them speaks. Bucky will get up eventually because he can’t afford to fall asleep next to them, but things are fine for now. He’ll start planning his next steps tomorrow. He’ll probably remember more things; he’ll at least try to, but not now.

Now he lets his body relax. He holds his mug with his left hand and Rebeca’s hand with the right one. None of them speaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUsFijbyouo


	2. A second chance to make amends

_We made our families proud_  
_But scared at the same time._  
_We promised we’d be safe,_  
_Another lie from the front lines._

_..._

_Though time is ruthless,_  
_It showed us kindness in the end,_  
_By slowing down enough,_  
_A second chance to make amends._

* * *

 

It is five months into his dismantling of Hydra that Bucky discovers Steve has been looking for him.

He has remembered a lot more now that his brain cells can regenerate in peace. There are lots of things from before the war, but there are even more things from his time with Hydra.

William, who has opened up to him during the last months, says he should go up to the US government and ask for compensation for being a POW for so long. Rebeca thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Alice and Bucky are more realistic.

But not all of the Hydra memories leave him retching or make him lose sleep. Some of them are pretty useful for his task. For instance, the several accounts nobody seemed to care they were speaking of in front of him. William shows him how to transfer money, the spy shit Hydra put in his brain do the rest, and suddenly Bucky is a millionaire.

The money comes in handy for the fake documents and all the plane tickets he has to get.

Officially, Bucky still lives with his sister, but the last months he has spent most of his time outside the country. Apart from wanting to keep them safe as best he can, there’s also the fact most of Hydra left the States after the S.H.I.E.L.D. leek. He still calls Becca and Alice every night, though.

Bucky hasn’t killed a soul during his quest. That’s not his goal, he is done doing that. Instead, several governments have received tips of where to find conveniently tied up Hydra people in their work place. It’s when he’s coming from one of these jobs that he sees them.

Steve and his friend from the Helicarrier are inside a café. Steve looks tired even from the other side of the street. Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever seen him go so long without a shave, not even during the War. Then again, he’s memory is not all that reliable.

Sam Wilson has his back turned to him, but judging by the set of his shoulders he hasn’t let his guard gown in a long time either. Bucky feels bad for him, from what he can remember, it’s a pretty tiring job to keep up with Rogers when he has something in his mind.

He watches the two of them drink their coffees with enough enthusiasm to kill the dead. Wilson is the only one who talks. Steve just nods and does a poor job at pretending his mind is not somewhere else.

Bucky waits for them to leave and then crosses the street to the café. He goes straight to the counter and calls the attention of the woman behind it in French.

“Excusez-moi?”

She turns to him with a friendly smile “Oui, puis-je vous aider, Monsieur?”

“Oui,” Bucky smiles back and she blushes. “Je cherche mes amis. Ils s’appellant Steve et Sam, ils sont américains, Steve est blond et Sam est noir. Vous les avez vu?”

Sophie’s – as it says her name tag – eyes go wide and she nods. “Vous êtes James,” she exclaims, luckily not too loud. Bucky frowns but keeps the smile up. “Ils étaient juste ici,” she tells him, apologetic. “Je suis désolé.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows in his best display of confusion. “Pourquoi?”

“Ils vous cherchent aussi.”

-

Bucky finds a nice, family-ish bed and breakfast just outside the city. He showers and hops onto the bed before fishing his burner phone from the jacket he had thrown on the floor.

He dials his sisters’ numbers and waits. Rebeca picks up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Becca, it’s me,” he tells her as he stretches his legs in front of him on the bed. The television is on but Bucky doesn’t bother turning up the volume. There’s nothing on the news about Captain America’s visit, at least not on the news ticker.

“Oh! How are you doing, dear?”

Bucky sighs, suddenly realizing how tired he is. This is the kind of thing he is only now learning to notice the signs of, and it still takes him some time to realize that that’s his body telling him it needs rest. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong, Bucky? You don’t sound fine.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky rests his head on the headboard. “I saw Steve today,” he confesses. “He’s been looking for me, Becca.”

“Well, did you talk to him?” He is silent for long enough Rebeca calls for him. “Bucky?”

He shakes his head, only to realize a second later that she can’t see him. “I couldn’t do it.”

“He doesn’t blame you, dear,” Rebeca says sympathetically. “None of us do, you know that.”

Bucky wishes he could just accept that and move on. He wouldn’t even be here if he could just do that, but he can’t. He has spilled way too much blood to simply take Rebeca’s word for it and pretend everything is fine. And Steve? Steve is a whole other matter.

Bucky doesn’t want to have this conversation now, so he changes the subject, “Where’s Alice?”

Rebeca notices the deflection, but she just sighs before playing along. They both know this conversation is not ending here. “Oh, she’s asleep. She’s old, she sleeps a lot.”

Bucky chuckles, “Good thing you’re not, right.”

“You just watch it, James Buchanan!” She sounds just like their mother and it makes his heart squeeze itself into his chest. There is so much he’ll never get back. Once again his silence is too prolonged and Becca has to drag him back. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes out. If he is certain of anything in his life he is certain of that. “I know. I love you too, Becca.”

“I want you to be happy. It’s a miracle that you’re here, and I thank God every _day_ – But I want to see you smile without having to think about it, Bucky. You deserve more than this.”

“I’m happy with what I got. You have no idea how much.”

“Yes, but there is more,” Rebeca insists. “And you deserve it.” This time is Becca who stays silent for a several seconds. Bucky senses she has more to say and waits. “When are you coming back?”

He knows somehow that that’s not what she had in mind, but he doesn’t push it. Becca is giving him an out from this conversation and he will take it. “Soon; just a few more days.”

“Alright. You take care of yourself, dear.”

“You too, Becca, you too.”

They hang up at the same time and Bucky slides down the bed until he’s comfortable. He leaves the phone by the nightstand and stares at the ceiling. If he’s being honest with himself he has to admit seeing Steve threw him off.

Bucky is not ready for this.

Without meaning to, his thoughts go back to the day he bridged the gap in his relationship with Alice, about a month after he broke down in the living room.

He had finally found the courage to venture through Becca’s photo albums when she came to him.

_“I don’t know how these photos have survived this long,” Alice announces her entrance. She is perceptive enough to have already caught on he doesn’t take well to being surprised, even if she doesn’t realize the walker gives her away. “Rebeca shows them to every soul who has ever crossed the front door,” she explains. “William had them all digitalized some years ago, but she refused to use the tablet he gave her.”_

_Bucky noticed it too. The device is practically his now. He waits for Alice to take her usual place on the green armchair before commenting, “It’s a lovely family.”_

_“Yes, it is.”_

_He feels like an intruder, but he lets curiosity get the best of him and asks, “Got yourself one?”_

_Alice is silent for almost a whole minute. He’s notice she is not in the habit of sharing things about herself._

_“I’m a mathematician,” she says instead of answering. “I have worked for Nasa since its inauguration.” She picks at invisible lint on her skirt. “I guess these days people would say I was married to my work.”_

_Bucky nods understanding, but it’s so rare to have Alice opening up to him that he finds himself fishing for more. “No kids, then?” he asks without looking at her._

_A snort comes from Alice’s direction. The sound it’s so unlike her, Bucky actually does a double take to see if it’s still just the two of them. “I couldn’t exactly have them.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_She actually laughs at him this time. “It’s not like that.”_

_“I don’t understand.”_

_Alice sighs then. “You know, our mother had a fear. A fear she voiced it only once and only to me. She was afraid, you see. Because her only son was old enough to be marring – starting his own family – but all he cared about was another boy.”_

_Bucky is paralyzed. His memory is patchy at the best of days, but there are things, there are things he’s carried so deep within himself seventy years of wipes and brainwash did not erase. The dread of this moment is one of them._

_He opens his mouth but Alice isn’t done. “She was crying so quietly. We were alone, the two of us. Come to think of it now, I believe she was drunk. She had already lost a daughter, she said. She couldn’t bear to lose another child.”_

_Bucky no longer knows what to say._

_Alice is not crying. He has a feeling she has run out of tears a long time ago. Her voice is the only teller of her emotions. “It’s ironic that this son she dreaded losing so much was gone anyway, regardless of his tendencies. But at that time, that day, I sworn I would never cause my mother pain.” She inhales and exhales softly. “Then you were gone, and the day we got the letter I hammered down the last nail on anything that could hurt my family anymore.”_

_At first he doesn’t understand. He thought she had been talking about him, now he is not so certain. Alice’s mouth is a thin line where she presses her lips together, her intertwined hands rest on her lap as she waits. For the first time he can read her._

_She’s nervous._

_And then it dawns on him._

_This conversation is not about him._

_“You’re like me,” he tells her uselessly. She’s like him in so many ways, why not this one as well? Wonders never cease in this strange new world, but Alice Barnes likes women, same way James Barnes likes men and somehow, in some way, this makes him feel more at home than all of Becca’s family albums._

_Finally, he starts to feel like he belongs._

_Alice barks out a laugh. It’s old and rusty but it lights up her face. The wrinkles around her eyes knit together when she smiles, “Must’ve been something in our water.”_

He wonders now, an ocean away, if Alice had someone in her life like he had Steve. If it happened while he was still home he doesn’t remember. All he knows is that his death caused her to give up her own chance of happiness. No wonder she wasn’t receptive like Becca, who knows about him, because apparently Bucky Barnes can’t do subtle, but has no idea about Alice.

He’s been educating himself in several subjects and he knows he can’t just tell Rebeca, but part of Bucky wishes he could repair the suffering he caused her without even knowing. He has no idea what, though.

Bucky is still not used to eating regularly so he simply forgoes dinner and relaxes on the bed as he waits for sleep. Maybe tomorrow he’ll have more memories, maybe then he’ll know what to do.

-

He leaves Belgium ~~and Steve~~ behind the next day. Bucky may not know what to do with his life in the long haul, but he _does_ know what to do now. Now he fucks with Hydra the way it fucked with him for seventy years. Only Bucky doesn’t need to make them bleed or break their bones to make them hurt. _Cut off one head, two more shall take its place._ He’s heard that shit for over half a century, he gets it. Killing this people accomplishes nothing. He has to cut it from the roots.

So Bucky goes to Russia.

Hydra might not have started here, but _he_ did. So did the Red Room, but Natalia Romanova is the only other witness left of it, so that won’t be a problem. Department X did not join Hydra for their shared beliefs; but it had to merge with the Nazis in order to survive. There’s where Bucky comes in.

The Soviets end up having to shut down several projects for lack of funds, including The Winter Soldier. There are years of his life Bucky will never get back, because he spent them locked away on storage. If his math is right, there are five to nine years between the time he fell from the train and getting the metal arm.

By then, Department X was almost another Hydra tentacle. All his _training_ was done here, in the middle of Siberia. And if he is lucky there’s still enough here to help him clean him name.

He is going to put together a case with William – who happens to be a lawyer – and prove that he’s just another POW, not a traitor. Maybe he could ask Steve to testify if it comes to that. Bucky shakes his head, dismissing the thought as soon as it comes. How credible can be a guy who was willing to let Bucky kill him? Steve is so damn biased; Bucky might as well just call up his sisters to tell people how nice he used to be. That’s not going to work.

But if there is evidence he was not complacent with any of this, then maybe he can prove he didn’t do any of it because he wanted to. And once they are willing to hear him without pointing guns, he can name all the names and eliminate Hydra once and for all.

The front door is frozen shut and he has to slam his left shoulder twice against it before it opens.

It’s dark and cold inside, and Bucky can hear his own screams embedded on the walls. He uses a small flashlight to illuminate the path ahead, just in case. He’s walked this corridors blindfolded, he knows the way.

The narrow hallway ends up in a spacious room full of medical equipment and outdated technology. Bucky’s eyes do their best to avoid the leather chair in the center. His right hand shakes slightly as a voice inside his head yells at him to turn around a run. He ignores it.

The cryo chambers are still there, exactly how he remembers them. And, yes, that’s one point of his history Bucky was never allowed to forget. Here’s the truth, here is what he hasn’t told a soul; one of the few secrets that escaped the Hydra leek – because it was never theirs to begin with.

This was the Russians’ only, before they tumbled onto themselves and had to sell what was left, meaning him. So yeah, the cryo chambers are still there, all three of them. Except, unlike Bucky was expecting, they are empty.

Here’s the truth, much like Steve, Bucky was never supposed to be one of a kind.

“Homesick?”

Bucky doesn't let it show that she startled him. It’s a testament of how good she is at her job that he didn’t even hear her. "If that was the case," he replies calmly, “I'd be in Brooklyn now."

"Well, then?" The _what are you doing here_ is implied, and Bucky is just glad she doesn’t go straight to mentioning Steve.

"There's a problem," he tells her, jutting his chin towards the empty tubes.

Romanova hums an acknowledgement as she finally immerges from the darkness and appears by his side. “Share with the class,” she prompts when he doesn’t volunteer anything else.

A pink bubble surges from her lips and stretches forward until it explodes with a loud pop. Then Natalia puts it back into her mouth to keep chewing at it.

Bucky studies her from the corner of his eyes. He remembers her very differently from the woman fighting alongside Steve. But if she's on the side of the angels now... maybe he can trust her. "These,” he points to the empty chamber, “aren’t all mine.”

Natalia turns her head to the side and gives him a once over. “You look fine,” she comments. “Why haven’t you called Steve?”

“None of your business,” Bucky answers, and without losing a beat continuous, “You not concerned?”

“Of course I’m concerned,” another bubble gum ball pops, “Steve is my friend. At first I thought he shouldn’t try to find you but now –”

“That’s not what I mean,” Bucky cuts her with a frustrated sigh. “I’m talking about this.” He gestures at the chambers. Romanova gives a nonchalant shrug. Bucky frowns. “Doesn’t bother you?”

“Check the cupboard.” She points at the door behind the cryogenic tubes.

The hairs at the base of his neck stand up as he walks towards the door, and Bucky doesn’t think it is because he just exposed his back to the Black Widow. He psyches himself before pulling at the handle. Something is not right here. He can feel Romanova’s eyes on him. He can feel so many eyes on him, staring, pleading, vacant. Bucky shakes his head to get it back on track. He opens the door.

Dmitri and Arkandy stare at him from the floor. Their eyes look up without seeing.

Natalia peeks at them from over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, James.”  Bucky accepts her sentiments with a nod.

“Is Steve taking Hydra down while he looks for me?”

“I think so. Why?”

He turns his back on the bodies and starts to scan the place. This whole thing is not adding up. “Did you find anyone else?”

“No, _why_?”

Bucky stops and looks back at her. “What are you doing here, Natalia?” He feels paranoid.

His tone puts Romanova on edge and her right hand goes to the gun behind her back. She doesn’t draw it, thought. “I’ve been trying to find you,” she confesses, “for Rogers. What is happening?”

“The goal was to have several sleeper agents. Obviously, people don’t just _learn_ the serum is a fucking lottery.” He huffs. “I trained the few ones that survived the procedure,” Bucky tells her.

“Why the history lesson, James?”

"My chamber was sold with me," he reveals, nodding at the three tubes. “Now you do the math.”

Natalia is usually a master at disguising her emotions; she can’t mask her shock this time. “James, are you saying –”

“There’s another one.”

-

It takes hours to recover everything. It would probably have taken less if Bucky hadn’t been so distracted. Natalia helps him and, in exchange, he tells her about Project Zephyr.

“They are all Winter Soldiers?” She asks while they load the truck Bucky rented for this.

“They all had Winter Soldier _training_. They’re not me.” He slams the trunk door shut and turns to Romanova. “When I said they survived I mean they didn’t die. Those men never left their tanks. They all lost their minds at one point.” It should be comical, _him_ judging anyone’s sanity. “This is the part you leave, by the way.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just stares at him. He has no idea what she is looking for, but after a few more seconds she seems to find it. “I like the haircut,” Natalia smirks.

“Thanks, I cut it myself,” he deadpans.

Natalia smiles something small and mysterious. She looks up at him from behind long eyelashes. “Take care, James.”

“You too, Natalia.”

She turns around and starts to walk way then. Bucky doesn’t offer a ride, or asks her not to talk to Steve about him. She’ll do whatever she wants, regardless what he says.

What he takes from this encounter is that a pact was made here. He can count on Romanova, and she knows he will never try to kill her again.

-

Bucky ships the files from the compound to William, and sends his nephew a text to let him know what to expect. The reply comes almost a minute later in the form of a smiley emoji. Bucky snorts a laugh. William’s kids have been trying to modernize him and his wife lately. Bucky hasn’t met them yet, but he can see they’re progressing on their mission, because the last time he received a smile from William it was made with punctuation and it had a nose.

Now he has just one more thing to do before leaving Siberia himself.

Bucky returns to the facility. He is completely alone now, he checks to make sure. He finds cardboard boxes and wood tables he breaks down to fit through the narrow hatch of the furnace. Luckily there is still some gas in the pipes and Bucky gets a fire going.

He goes back to the cupboard where Arkandy and Dmitri are still staring at nothing. If Bucky left them here the cold would preserve them for years. He can’t do that, though. The cold has already taken too much from them all.

He never knew where they came from. He was only told to train them to achieve perfection. Even their names are just vague memories. He wishes he had more information about them now, so that he had something to say.

Bucky takes one at a time. He could have just tossed both bodies over his shoulders, but they deserve to be treated right, if only once. So he takes Dmitry first.

A man with blond hair and blue eyes forever stuck in his late twenty. God, this could be Steve.

The furnace in the back room was made to heat the building. From what Bucky can remember, it was mostly fueled with bodies. It’s one of the dark things about him he will never tell another soul, he’s grown accustomed to the smell of burning flesh.

He has nothing to say to Dmitri as he pushes him towards the fire, so Bucky says the only thing that sounds right in this moment. “I’m sorry.” When the body is completely inside he sits vigil while it burns.

Bucky stays there, unmovable, for two hours. Then he repeats the ritual.

Arkandy has the same hole on the middle of his chest as Dmitri. His ginger hair was starting to go grey. It’s premature though, another sign the serum failed. The kid couldn’t have been older than eighteen.

Bucky crosses the boy’s arms over his chest before sending him to the fire. “I’m sorry,” he says again. Then he watches and when it’s over the only thing left in Bucky is anger.

Neither of the bodies looked like they had a chance of defending themselves.

He doesn’t know much about Arkandy and Dmitri, doesn’t even know their last names, but he does know Leo Novokov. He comes with first and last name, together with a military rank. And Bucky remembers him well enough. Unlike the other two Novokov was no kid. And he volunteered.

Before he even realizes what he is doing Bucky is ripping the chair from its bolts on the floor. He holds it above his head, wiring falls around him. The head piece is still connected and it hangs like a chandelier. Bucky’s breath catches when he looks at it. So he tears his eyes from the thing and throws the chair at the glass of the cryo chambers.

The chair is wide enough it shatters the middle one and cracks the other two. He is not satisfied. He throws a monitor on the left one and his metal fist through the one in the right, and his fist turns the glass to dust.

A desperate sound echoes through the wall and it takes Bucky some time to realize that it’s coming from him. His right hand is bleeding but he ignores the throb. He just wants to destroy this place like it destroyed those kids, like it tried to do to him.

When he is done with that chamber he moves to the other one and repeats. With every punch he sees his own eyes closing inside the glass, he feels his lungs fighting the chemicals as he tries to breathe.

He brings the three tubes down renewing his promise. He might be done with violence, but he will tear apart anyone who tries to put him back in one of those. If anyone wants him gone they’ll have to try and kill him.

When it’s all over Bucky manages to find a pencil and a yellowed piece of paper in the middle of the wreckage. If Steve is still on his tail – which he definitely is – then this is his next stop.

Bucky leaves him a message.

-

He sleeps for two whole days when he gets home. When he wakes up Alice tells him Rebeca was so worried she actually checked his breathing. Twice.

Bucky takes a long bath and finds his sisters setting the table when he finally emerges from the bathroom.

“William brought us take out,” Becca announces as he sits down next to her.

“He’s trying to kill us with all this salty food,” Alice complains as she serves a small portion of mashed potatoes to her plate.

“You leave my son alone,” Becca says, “He’s being nice. Plus, this is from my very own restaurant.” She turns to Bucky as she takes some carrots and peas for herself. “He said the things you sent are due for the day after tomorrow.”

When it’s Bucky’s time to serve himself he takes the stake, neither of his sisters will eat and some peas. “Tell him I said thank you.”

“What do you mean? Why don’t to tell him yourself?” Rebeca asks.

“I have to go away for a little longer this time,” Bucky explains.

“To take Hydra down,” Alice suggests.

Bucky swallows down his food before answering. “Actually, I'm putting Hydra on the backburner for a while. Steve's been doing a fine job at dealing with them himself. I’ll let him to it.” Bucky did some research; Steve and Wilson are taking a lot of people down as they look for him.

“Where are you going then?” Alice asks.

He considers for a while, if telling them may jeopardize their safety, and he reaches the conclusion that it will probably not come to that. Also, he knows he can count on their discretion. “I need to find a very dangerous person.”

They both look at him with concern but it’s Rebeca who asks, “Hydra?”

“Not really. See, I had to train some men to become like me.” Becca’s eyes go wide. “But it didn’t really work, the serum made them lose their minds. The other two are dead, but there’s still one of them missing.”

“You only found out now?”

“Bucky, you shouldn’t go alone.”

They speak at the same time. “I’m the only one who knows how to track him. And I just found out.” They still look worried so Bucky decides to change the subject, and he is far from subtle. “What happened to Marry?”

Alice rolls her eyes at him, but Becca answers. “Oh, she died nine months after I was born. Seven years old,” she laments. “Poor thing had a weak heart.”

“I have to be honest. I – I don’t really remember her.” Even with all the things he has recovered so far, it pains Bucky that there is still so much he can’t recall.

Alice and Rebeca exchange a quick look over the table, and promptly begin to laugh. Bucky just stares at them.

“None of us do, Bucky,” Becca says, still giggling. “I was just a baby and Alice was four!”

“That’s one thing you don’t have to feel bad about,” Alice reassures him. “You know who might be able to tell you more about her?” She looks at Becca again. They are conspiring against him, he can tell. “Steve Rogers,” she suggests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtU_7SHYEnI


	3. It’s always darkest before the dawn

_All of his questions, such a mournful sound_  
_Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground_  
_So I like to keep my issues drawn_  
_But it's always darkest before the dawn_

* * *

 

Leo Novokov is a needle and the world is one giant haystack. Bucky hasn’t had a single lead in weeks. Leo was not supposed to be good at navigating around, not when he’s been asleep for decades. Unless…

Bucky was sold to Hydra, he has no idea what was made of the sleeper agents from Project Zephyr. He was there when they were declared too out of it to be useful, but that was a long time ago. The department change hands over time. It is possible information got lost in the meantime and the new heads let the sleepers loose from time to time.

While Bucky is not sure about any of this he follows his own instinct, and it leads him to a sleazy little cockroach called Gustav Ivanovich, Department X legacy.

Gustav makes a living of trafficking other humans, so he knows when he is the one being hunted, Bucky is sure of it, especially because he _wants_ him to.

For his credit, Ivanovich doesn’t look behind his shoulder. But his muscles are so tense he might as well have Bucky breathing on his neck. Good. Let him sweat. The more on edge he gets the less Bucky will have to really apply anything physical.

He is not exactly sure his brain can cope with too much violence anymore. It might shut down on him.

But for now Gustav is giving him everything he wants. The gun on his ankle shouldn’t be a problem either. Bucky is just about to corner him when the other guy following Ivanovich on the rooftops decides he’s had enough. And that’s how Gustav topples over with an arrow on his left shoulder.

Luckily it’s after ten and the city is under curfew, so there is no one else around. The guy is probably trying some kind of parkour landing, but ends up falling on his butt by Gustav’s feet.

“Aw, man,” he groans. Bucky could have disappeared while the man got up, but he stays. “It looks so easy on the movies,” the guy complains as he dusts himself. Then he turns to Bucky with an outstretched hand and a grin. “Clint Barton.”

Bucky stares at the hand, then back at Clint Barton. The name _does_ sound familiar, but who the hell approaches someone like this after shooting the guy they have both been following?

After a few more seconds of Bucky very much not shaking his hand, Barton’s eyes go wide and he retrieves the hand like he just touch something hot. “Oh man, oh man. I’m so sorry.” Is this guy for real? “That was so insensitive.”

“Shooting my mark,” Bucky asks, “yeah, it was. I was gonna question him. Is he dead?”

“What? No, no. Just tranquilizer,” Barton reassures him.

“Then why are you apologizing?” Bucky frowns.

“Well,” Barton scratches the back of his neck, almost stabbing his own hand on the arrows. “Cap said you didn’t know who you are, and here I am, talking about names like a dick, sorry man.”

Bucky scoffs. “I know my own name,” he protests, knowing full well he didn’t have this information some months ago. Not that Barton needs to know that.

“That’s not what Cap said,” Barton insists. This is not what Bucky had planned for tonight. He didn’t even call his sisters. He’s going to have to leave it for tomorrow; it’s probably too late back in the States already.

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes. Trust Rogers to be making him some sort of sob story. “ _Cap_ hasn’t seen me in a long time. He doesn’t know me,” he confesses, and then more quietly, “not anymore.” He averts Barton’s gaze as he says it, but looks back up right after to point at him. “And my name’s Bucky, asshole.”

“Man, you are the life of the party, ain’t you?” Clint shakes his head but he looks more amused than annoyed. “Anyway,” he drawls, “wanna share?” he asks pointing at Gustav.

Bucky considers the offer for a moment. He gets the feeling he won’t be able to shake Barton off that easily and he really doesn’t want to hurt any more of Steve’s friends. So he obliges. “I go first,” he announces, bypassing Barton to go wake Gustav.

Barton shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Bucky grabs Ivanovich by the back of his jacket and drags him to the next alley. “Get lost for fifteen minutes,” he orders without looking back. He hears Barton’s footsteps getting further away; when he can’t hear them anymore Bucky pulls out the arrow.

The sedative must not have been strong enough, because Gustav screams himself awake as soon as the arrow is gone from his shoulder.

Bucky takes off the glove covering the metal hand. It’s show time.

“Shut up,” he hisses in Russian. Gustav whines quietly when his eyes catch the metal.

“I didn’t do anything, please,” responds in the same language.

Bucky ignores the plea. “Where’s Leo Novokov?”

“Who?”

Bucky crouches so he is eye level with Ivanovich, he is so close they share the same stale breath. Gustav shivers visibly. “Leo Novokov,” he repeats simply and waits.

It doesn’t take long. “I – I don’t know,” Gustav stutters. “He didn’t look for me.” He tries to get some distance from Bucky but his injured shoulder rubs the concrete on the wall behind him and he yelps.

Bucky almost smiles. Gustav was not trained for this and he just gave him the gold. “But you do know he is out of cryo?”

Gustav gets desperate then. “I didn’t see him, I swear. I haven’t seen him in years.”

As protocol, Bucky acts as if he hasn’t heard a word Gustav said and continues his questioning. He is on a tight schedule, Barton will return soon. “How do you know he is out of cryo sleep?” He raises his hand to let it rest on the wall next to Ivanovich’s throat. Gustav flinches.

“Someone left a – a trail of bodies in a Hydra base.”

Bucky is about to ask how can Gustav know it’s not him, when something draws his attention and he stops to turn around and frown at the street behind him. “Okay, it has _not_ been fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t have a watch.”

“Fucking phones have watches, Barton. What is this shit, why d’ya want him anyway?” Beside him Gustav tries to wiggle his way out. Bucky slams him against the wall and pins him there with his left arm. He keeps his eyes on Barton, though, who has just come out of the shadows.

Barton arches an eyebrow at him. “Are you telling me _your_ reason?”

Fair point. Bucky shrugs. “Whatever. I have enough.” He turns back to Gustav, who looks confused. His English is probably not that good. Bucky gets close enough to his ear to whisper in Russian, “Tell him I’m looking for him.”  Then Bucky shoves him to the side and stands up. “All yours.”

He is about to leave the alley when Barton speaks, “Hey, man –” Bucky stops, but doesn’t turn around. “He’s worried. Steve is good people”

Bucky tries to keep his muscles from tensing up. It takes him a couple of seconds to relax his jaw enough to talk. “Well, I’m not. Tell him that.” He takes another step before Barton opens his mouth again. Bucky sighs.

“I don’t get it, why don’t you wanna see him?”

And isn’t that a great question? Bucky leaves Barton to think that one for himself and resumes his walk, disappearing into the night. He tries not to think about it as he heads back to his motel.

-

Bucky searches the internet for the attacks Gustav mentioned. There are no photos of the bodies online, but the descriptions are enough for Bucky to paint a very distinct picture of what happened.

The patterns in which the bodies were hurt described by the website, the way they say those people died. Novokov didn’t kill the Hydra goons simply because he is insane. He was interrogating them.

Now Bucky just has to find out what the hell is he after, and why it seems so important.

When Bucky looks at the clock on the bottom of his tablet it’s already almost six in the morning. He can practically hear Rebeca scolding at him, so he turns off the device and tries to get some shut eye, even if he has to fight his adrenaline every step of the way.

Once he wakes up the first thing to come to Bucky’s mind is Natalia Romanov. She clearly didn’t tell Barton about his state, but he has no idea what she might have told Steve. In hindsight he really shouldn’t have told her about Novokov.

His phone rings and takes Bucky out of his own head. Only three people have this number so he doesn’t worry about answering.

“Hello?”

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Alice says, louder than she has to. “We were afraid you’ve fallen in the shower and broken a hip.”

Bucky snorts and plays along. “Oh, please. I’m not the one who needs a walker.” He knows they worry when he doesn’t call regularly, especially Rebeca. It makes Bucky feel like a real jerk, making them go through the anxiety of not knowing all over again.

“At least it’s not attached to me,” Alice shoots back, and this time he barks out a laugh. 

“You are a really nice person, Alice. Have I told you that?”

“Oh, bite me, Jimmy.” It’s been decades, but she still remembers he hates that nickname with a passion. It’s a good thing _he_ remembers it too. Bucky doesn’t get to reply, though, before Alice is speaking again, “Rebeca wants to say hi.”

He hears the shuffle on the lines as Alice passes the phone.

“Bucky, are you alright?” Different from Alice, Becca’s tone bleeds with her concern.

“Yeah, everything’s okay,” Bucky reassures her. “I just got in late last night. What about you two, how are you?”

“We would like to have our big brother home,” she confesses. “Why can’t the Avengers take care of this?”

“That’s cos they won’t know how to deal with him. It’s like I told you, I’m the only one who can track him.” As soon as the words leave his mouth Bucky realizes what he just said. That’s the answer of how he can find Novokov. “I know how he thinks.”

It’s so stupidly obvious Bucky has no idea how it escaped his notice. He had to train Leo in how to utilize his new strength, but before that, before that _Novokov_ was one of the people responsible for Bucky’s training in espionage. Bucky has been a soldier for a long time, but he had no intelligence training before.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Becca insists.

“I can deal with him, don’t worry, alright.” Bucky closes his eyes and suppresses a sight. Becca’s is too old to be losing sleep over him. He tries to distract her. “Hey, how’s my case going? You talked to your kid?”

Over the line, Rebeca giggles, “Kid.” Bucky can practically see her shaking her head. “William’s almost sixty, dear.”

“And I’m almost a hundred. Believe me, he’s a kid.” Becca chuckles again and it’s with that sound Bucky says his goodbye to her. “I gotta go, Becca. Talk soon, promise.”

“You better keep that, James Buchanan, you better keep that.”

Bucky hangs up before he gets even more caught up in a promise he knows there is no way he can be sure of keeping.

-

The smile drops from Rebeca’s face as she puts down the telephone. She looks up to find Alice staring back at him.

“He’s in trouble,” Rebeca tells her, “I can feel it.”

“He’s been in trouble for a long time, Rebeca.”

“What is wrong with you?” Rebeca yells when Alice just turns back to pretend to watch the stupid cooking show on the television. “Don’t you care about our brother? We only just got him back!” She picks the remote from the coffee table and turns of the device.

This time Alice doesn’t ignore her. “What is this?” She asks angrily, though she doesn’t raise her voice. “What do you want me to do, Rebeca? We only have some more years ourselves. Do you really want to use them to open old wounds? Don’t you remember how it felt when he died the first time? Do you want to feel that again?”

Rebeca blinks away the tears from her eyes. She remembers well enough, as if it was only yesterday. That’s why she can’t have that again. She picks the telephone again and dials William number.

“What are you doing?”

“Mom?”

Alice and William say at the same time. Rebeca talks to her son while she glares at her older sister. “Can you come pick me up, dear? I need a ride. Be quick, sweetheart.” She doesn’t give him time to answer before hanging up, she needs to get ready.

“What the hell are you doing?” Alice asks as Rebeca turns to leave the room.

Rebeca looks back at her sister, and her anger must be transparent, for Alice actually seems taken aback. “I do remember, Alice. How it felt to get a letter saying my brother was gone. I _remember_. And I won’t let it happen again.”

“How? Where are you going?”

“To get help.”

-

Bucky ditches the burner phone before he leaves the city. He’ll get a new one later and text William the number. His nephew is familiar with Bucky’s M.O. by now, and he will pass the new number to his sisters.

He takes the train that leads him to the biggest town next to the old Hydra base Novokov destroyed. First rule of this business: bland in. Leo is tall and carries himself like military; he will never be able to disappear in a small place. Just like Bucky with his arm, he would stand out like a sore thumb.

Leo is looking for something, he’ll need supplies. He clearly has gotten something larger than the old rifle he took from the compound, judging by the carnage he left in the Hydra base. This means Leo found himself a dealer.

Luckily, those are easy to spot.

Bucky shakes three of them until he finds his pot of gold.

Problem is his pot of gold is lying on a pool of his own blood.

There a noise behind him and Bucky draws the gun from his back, pointing at the direction of the sound. It’s coming from the upstairs of the old garage. Bucky unlocks the safety and hears a whimper.

“Please don’t hurt me, please. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t see anything, I swear,” the woman cries in Russian as she takes careful steps down.

“Did you see the man who did this?” Bucky asks trying to sound firm, but not like he’s about to kill her. He is so tired of frightening the innocent. And as the woman approaches she looks more and more like a case of wrong time, wrong place. He’s done being the cause of collateral damage, so he slowly raises his hands. The safety remains off because Bucky is trying to be good, not stupid. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he tells the woman.

“The man killed him,” the woman starts to sob, “He took the guns, he took the guns and shot him, he shot him.” She reaches the bottom of the stairs and falls to her knees, a hand over her mouth to muffle herself. “He killed him, he just killed him,” she repeats, over and over, while rocking back and forth.

“Did you see the man’s face?” She doesn’t seem to hear him. Bucky tries again. “Did he look like military?” He takes a step forward, but the woman is so far gone she doesn’t even flinch. Bucky crouches to her level and gently pries her hand from her face. That’s when he notices, she’s just a girl. “Is that your papa?”

The kid nods meekly. Her green eyes look too big on her small face.

“I’m really sorry, doll.” He clicks the safety back on and puts the gun away on the small of his back. “Did you see the man who did this?” Bucky asks again.

She nods again. “I was hiding,” she says, pointing upwards to the apartment on the second floor. “Papa always tells me to hide when people come for the guns. He took the guns and, and,” her voice weavers as she starts to sob again, “he shot papa.”

Bucky puts a gentle hand on her shoulder to try to help her stop shaking. “You’re very brave, you know that?” She shakes her head. “Yeah, you are,” Bucky reassures her, “very brave. You have to do me a favor, though, to help me find the man.” She stares at him with huge eyes and waits for him to speak. “Can you tell me what he ordered from your papa?”

The girl uncurls the arm she was hugging herself with and points at the shelves behind Bucky. The place is an old garage and when Bucky looks at the shelves all he sees are bike parts. He turns back to the kid.

“Papa keeps a book,” she explains. It takes her some time to find her footing again, but she finally gets up after a few minutes and walks over the shelves. She pushes a motor out of the way and takes a brick from the wall behind it. The kid sticks her hand inside the wall and it comes out with a small notebook. She hands it to Bucky.

There are no names, just dates and what Bucky assumes to be the initial of each weapon purchased on that day. Novokov is the last entry, there are only three letters in it.

“That’s all he asked for?” The kid nods. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she hisses angrily at him. “He took the three weapons and shot my father with one of them. I am sure.”

Something is not right. When Bucky was active he only had this little equipment when the target didn’t oppose a threat, like civilians – he swallows down the bile that suddenly rushes up his throat – like children.

“You should call the police,” he tells her, not really paying attention to what he is saying as he tries to figure it out the missing piece of the puzzle.

“My father sells guns, I cannot call the police.” She is right.

“Do you want me to take you somewhere?”

She looks at her father. Bucky realizes he hasn’t even asked her name. “No,” she says, still looking at the man on the floor. “I will call my family.”

Bucky sighs. “What’s your name?”

“Darya.”

“I’m really sorry, Darya. But you won’t get your revenge.”

Darya turns back to him. “Will you find this man?”

“Yeah.”

She recites him a number, and then repeats it three times. “Remember that. My father was Ivan, write his name on the bullet. Then you tell me when he is dead.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at her. “You trust me like that?” He blinks once, twice and suddenly those green eyes belong to a different face. Another child, and without any reason she trusts him with her life. Bucky shakes his head and the red hair vanishes from his vision.

In front of him, Darya gives him a stern looks. “Do you know this pain?” She clutches at her heart. “Losing family it’s where we hurt the most.” She is crying and shaking again even as she speaks, but her words are clear. There is a jug of water and a glass on the table next to him, so Bucky pours her some. “I’ll go after yours if you don’t do it.”

Bucky is not happy with the growing number of promises piling up on him, but much like his sisters, he can’t run from this one either, so he nods. He will never take family for granted again, especially now his is so old and frail. Anything could take them away, a cold could be fatal – Bucky stops on his tracks – the glass falls from his hand and crashes into a million diamonds on the floor.  

If a cold could be fatal, three weapons are more than enough.

Bucky runs.

-

There’s an old lady and a middle aged man waiting in front of his building when Steve gets home. They approach him as soon as he gets off the bike.

“May I help you, ma’am? You’re looking for someone?”

The woman smiles sweetly at him and the man puts his hand on her shoulder to halt her steps. “Mom, you should introduce yourself.”

She scoffs at her son’s comment but keeps her eyes on Steve, who just looks between the two of them and tries to understand what’s happening. They don’t seem to be in any immediate danger, neither they look like they’re here to cause trouble, so Steve is at a lost.

“I don’t need to introduce myself, William. For Christ sake’s! This man right here has changed my dirty dipper.”

Steve has no idea what she’s talking about, and he’s about to point out she might be mistaking him for someone else. He thinks about Peggy, and how some days she can’t place him either. He’s just glad this old lady isn’t alone. But then he takes a good look at her. Grey-blue eyes. The hair is completely white now, but if he searches his mind he can see how it used to be, dark brown hair, just like her brother.

“Becca,” Steve breathes out, and it’s not even a question. He _knows._

He never looked for Bucky’s family because he’s fail them. Twice. He couldn’t bear to look any of them in the face knowing he didn’t protect Bucky; knowing that he let him fall. And now, knowing Steve didn’t look for him when he did. He let Bucky to a fate worse than death and now Bucky’s little sister is at his doorstep. And Steve hasn’t even found him yet.

He honestly feels like he is about to puke.

“That’s right,” Rebeca smiles. “And this is my William,” she nods to the man beside her.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain.” William doesn’t seem like most of the people Steve meets for the first time. He looks calmer now that Steve recognized his mother.

“You too.” Steve shakes his hand and then turns to Rebeca. “Becca,” he takes her hand in his. It’s so small. A distant part of him tells him they should probably go inside and so Steve stops himself from pouring his heart out. “Uh, do you – uh, do you wanna come inside?”

“Yes, actually,” she agrees. “We would love too.”

When they are inside he offers them coffee, tea and water but both mother and son decline the beverages. Steve is so nervous his palms are sweeting. He’s just glad the building has an elevator and Becca didn’t have to struggle to get to his apartment.

“Steve, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Here it comes. Steve has been waiting for this, for the Barnes family to spit on his face and call him a fraud. How can he let people call him a hero when he failed the one who matter the most?

He is suddenly scared of hearing what she has to say, so he blurts out, “Becca, I’m so, so sorry. I tried,” he voice breaks. He clears his throat. “I’m gonna find him, Becca. I promise you. I’m gonna bring Bucky home, I’m not gonna fail him again, I – ”

“Steve,” Rebeca snaps, cutting through his rambling, “That’s what I came here to tell you, dear. You can stop looking.”

“What?” It comes out as a whisper; his voice won’t go higher even if he tries to.

“You can stop looking,” Becca repeats. “I know where Bucky is. He is home.”

-

Alice is dozing in front of the television when the doorbell rings. It’s probably the nurse coming to check in on her. She usually hates it, but she has to admit, it will be a welcomed change. Rebeca has been gone for four days, and Alice is bored out of her mind with all the silence.

Bucky hasn’t called yet either, and this time not even chess has managed to cheer her up. The truth is it breaks Alice’s heart, every time she looks at her brother and sees the life that was stolen from him. Sometimes she can’t even spare him a glance; sometimes she wakes up certain he is not here, that the day before was just an illusion of an old mind. Other times she just wants him to stop being stubborn and call Steve Rogers, so that at least one of them can have a chance at love, now that they are free to have it.

She struggles to stand up without the walker. “Just a moment,” Alice calls when the bell rings again. She takes painfully slow steps towards her bedroom to retrieve the walker. The last thing Alice needs right now is Peterson nagging her about not using the damn thing.

The bell rings a third time and Alice is ready to tell Peterson to shove it up his damn behind when she remembers he actually has a key.

“If you are in such a hurry why don’t you open the door yourself?” Alice asks as she opens the door.

“I don’t have a key,” the stranger tells her in a heavy accent. Alice frowns at him, and she’s about to tell him he’s got the wrong house, but then he is stepping inside, completely ignoring her. “Where is he?” He turns back to Alice and, to her absolute terror there is a gun in his hand. “Where is that traitor?”

-

It is fifteen hours before Bucky gets home. Panic blinds him for the eleven he spends on the plane to get back to the US. When his feet touch the ground he has pushed the fear aside. Feelings were useless to the asset when a mission was imminent.

He changes his civilian clothes for body armor in the bathroom of a gas station. Then he steals a car. The vehicle is potent enough to get him there in considerable time.

The target is not heavily armed, but neither is he. His own equipment is too far from his destination to be useful. Although it should not pose a problem; he knows where to acquire what he needs.

Police tape is the only protection on the empty Hydra base. Most of the computers have already been taken to inventories. No one seems to have noticed the wall in one of the labs is hollow. If they had, they would have found the door leading to the armory.

Time is sensitive, so all he takes is the rifle he is familiar with, ammunition, and seven knifes. He hijacks another vehicle for the rest of the journey.

Sun is coming down when he reaches the gates for the retirement village. There are too many civilians around. Casualties are not an option, and the commotion alone could disturb them enough. The riffle might not be useful in these conditions.

There is a voice screaming inside his head saying _fuck the conditions, get Alice and Rebeca out of there._ He ignores the voice.

The passenger’s door opens and he pulls a knife to the throat of the person who sits next to him.

“James, it’s me,” Natalia speaks with confidence. She doesn’t fear him, but she is not stupid enough to move.

“Leave.”

“You don’t understand, I was on his tail, too. I couldn’t let him run around, he’s dangerous,” Romanova explains.

“Then why did you let him get to the house?” He snarls. He hasn’t moved the knife yet. The more she speaks, the less he feels like moving it.

Natalia looks apologetic. “I was one step behind,” she tells him quietly. Then she places both her hands on his forearm and waits for him to make the next move.

He studies her, blinking rapidly. Part of him wants to resurface and panic by her side. He pushes it down.

“James?”

He lowers his hand and gets out of the car, Romanova follows him.  A voice comes from Natalia’s ear. She’s not alone. He stops on his steps to glares at her.

“Clint has eyes on Alice,” she explains. “Your friend is smart enough to keep out of sight.”

“Where is –” he hesitates, for a moment he can’t remember the name. “Where is Rebeca?”

“Barton?” Natalia waits a few seconds for the reply. He can’t understand what is said, but he hears it when it comes. Romanova gives him the message, “There is no one else in the house.”

He registers the information but doesn’t allow his brain time to process. “Create a distraction on the front door,” he tells Natalia, and doesn’t wait for her answer to move to the back of the house.

Natalia rings the doorbell twice. On the second time he uses the sound to cover his own as he opens the kitchen window. He steps inside and slowly walks to the living room. He won’t get any other vantage in this small place, besides getting in unnoticed.

The old woman is sitting on the sofa. _She prefers the armchair_ , the voice in his head supplies. Novokov spots him first. He yanks the woman from the couch and pulls her against his chest like a human shield.

“Behold, the traitor!” He sneers from behind the woman. Her whole body is trembling, and the hand around her waist is clearly the only thing holding her up. Despite that, she looks physically unharmed.

She stares at him with pleading eyes – _Alice, her name is Alice_ – but she doesn’t say anything.

“Say something,” Novokov barks, jolting the woman with the force of it. She lets out a small whimper and it breaches through the asset, waking Bucky up.

“Let her go, Leo,” he demands, before addressing his sister more quietly. “It’s gonna be okay, promise.”

“You are a traitor,” Novokov says. His right eye moves faster than the left one. Now that Bucky really looks at him, he can see Leo is drenched in sweat.

Since they were programed to ignore pleas Bucky bypasses those, choosing something else to distract Leo with. “What happened? Who woke you?”

Leo’s breathings gets elaborate before he answers “The crates malfunctioned; we were abandoned there to waste. I put an end to my brothers’ suffering like they asked me to.” Bucky is not certain that is really what Arkandy and Dmitri would have asked, but he keeps it to himself. There is no use poking the bear. “You,” Novokov points at Bucky with his free hand, “betrayed us! You sold your soul and left us to rot.”

Bucky shakes his head. How can I be a traitor?” He opens his arms to encompass all he means, “I never chose any of this! I didn’t sell my soul, it was stolen from me.”

“We were made together,” Leo hisses. His free hand goes to the small of his back. Bucky tries to calculate any trajectory that would get him to Alice faster than Leo could shoot. He can’t do it. He won’t be fast enough. “We die together,” Novokov says as he draws the gun.

The serum made them all crazy. It distorted and killed so many people. Looking at it now, Bucky can’t see a single vantage from it, not even for Steve.

“You will follow me to hell,” Leo says. The ticking in his eye is getting worse by the minute. “And maybe she won’t have to.”

Bucky’s gaze goes to the weapon and then back up to Novokov’s eyes, and then he smiles at him the wicked smile of death. The serum worked only twice, and Leo Novokov is not part of that statistic.

Bucky takes a step forward. Leo and Alice take one back and the muzzle touches her head. “Have you made your choice, Soldier?”

The smirk doesn’t falter and neither does he. “Do you know why I had a mask?” Bucky answers his own question. “It’s disturbing when I smile at my prey. Not even the ones who wanted them dead wished it upon them.” It’s all a bunch of crap, of course, God knows why Bucky was muzzled.

But Novokov’s brain is even worse than his and anything Bucky says strikes something inside Leo – because he is afraid of Bucky, and he knows that if Alice dies something much worse will happen to him.

One more step forward and they fall into Barton’s line of sight through the window. Leo doesn’t notice; he is too far gone. Bucky gives the tiniest shake of head to Barton out there. He hopes the message is clear. Not fatal. He waits for a couple of heartbeats, and then he nods.

The arrow to the shoulder unbalances Novokov and he lets go of Alice. Bucky catches her as she falls. She clings to him and begins to sob, just as the front door explodes. Alice startles and Bucky tightens his hold on her. “It’s okay, it’s over.”

Bucky turns around; ready to scowl at Natalia for the unnecessary force, but it’s not her at the door.

It’s Steve.

They stare at each other for only a moment before something behind Bucky gets Steve’s attention. His mouth forms the word but he doesn’t get the chance to speak, he doesn’t have to, Bucky gets it.

He disentangles Alice from himself and turns around, catching Leo of guard. The metal hand goes to Novokov’s throat and Bucky throws both of them through the window.

Novokov doesn’t make a sound when he hits the asphalt, even with Bucky’s body on him and the embedded arrow on his shoulder blade.

Bucky lowers his upper body until they are nose to nose, sharing the same breath. “There’s a girl mourning her lost father,” he hisses in Russian. “I made her a promise.”

Leo trashes under him, but his body is locking itself down and it refuses to cooperate. Bucky hears light footsteps – because she wants him to – and suddenly there is a gun in front of him. It has a silencer. He accepts the gift.

“I never chose this fucking life,” he tells Leo again.

Then he shoots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCWnVznnWcs


	4. You loved me back to life

_I was walking dead stuck inside my head_  
_I couldn't get out_  
_Turn the lights down_  
_The voices inside were so loud_

_..._

_But you stood by my side._  
_Night after night, night after night._  
_You loved me back to life_

 

* * *

 

Somebody calls his name behind him. When Bucky looks up he sees Natalia staring back at him.  He gives the gun back to her.

“We’re causing a bit of a commotion,” she nods at the houses behind her; some of them have their lights on. “You should go back to your family. I’ll take care of this.” Barton says something through her comms and she rolls her eyes. “ _We’ll_ take care of this. Don’t worry.”

Bucky accepts her offer with a nod. “Thank you.” He stands up from Novokov’s body and wipes Leo’s blood off his face on the sleeve of his jacket. Thankfully it’s a dark fabric, so it won’t scare his sisters.

“There’s a kid in a city near Siberia,” Bucky says, crouching down to pick up what was left of the bullet he used. He hands it to Romanova. “Her name is Darya. Give this to her.”

Natalia surprises him with a hand on one of his cheeks and a chaste kiss to the other. “You’re a better man than you think, James. Remember that.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. Whoever called him the first time does it again and he finally turns his back to Natalia to walk back to the house.

Rebeca and Alice are in a tight embrace when he gets to them. The person who called him is now talking quietly with William, he looks up and Bucky recognizes Steve’s friend, Wilson.

“Hey, man.”

Bucky extends his hand to him. “I am sorry for what I did to you. I appreciate you coming over to help.”

Wilson takes Bucky’s human hand with a firm shake. “Bygones are bygones dude. And we actually had no idea you were here.” He points at Rebeca. “Your sister said you were running around after that guy. Then we get here and Natasha is in front of your house, with Clint over someone’s rooftops,” Wilson shakes his head, “Crazy coincidence.”

“Yeah – I – yeah,” Bucky sighs and turns to William. “I understand if you want me gone from your lives.”

William shakes his head. “That’s not my decision. And this was not your fault. He puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “We have a case, don’t give up now.”

“Thank you, William. Thank you both.” Bucky has no idea what else to say. He has caused so much pain to so many people over decades. Now he seems to have all these folks willing to watch his six. A lump forms in his throat, he’s not sure he deserves all this.

“Go to them,” William tells him. “They need you.”

Bucky nods to him and walks over to his sisters. “I am so,” his voice cracks, “so sorry.”

“Bucky,” Becca cries out, opening her arms to welcome him into their embrace. He feels the two of them shaking when he gets close; Bucky himself is not much better.

“I love you,” he tells them. His head rests over Alice’s with Rebeca’s on his shoulder. “I love you both so much,” Bucky breathes out into Alice’s soft hair. When she hiccups he takes a step back to look at her. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“I am now. You saved me.”

Bucky kisses her forehead, and then Rebeca’s. “I’ll never let this happen again, promise. I won’t leave your side, if that’s what it takes.”

Becca grins at him sweetly. “That’s all we want.”

“Mom,” William calls and the three siblings turn to him. “We should take Aunt Alice to the hospital, just to check.”

“The official story here is that someone tried to rob your house,” Wilson informs them.

Alice tries to protest by saying she is just fine, but Rebeca and her son win the argument and they take her with them to William’s car.

It’s only when he is alone with Wilson that Bucky realizes someone’s missing. “Where’s Rogers?”

“He’s inside.”

“Oh.” He kind of wanted to tidy things up and take a shower before the girls came back.

Wilson snorts and Bucky turns his back on the house to glares at him. “Man, is the lack of communication skills a forties thing?”

“What?”

“Go talk to him,” Wilson says, pointing at the house.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

“It’s okay, Sam,” says the voice behind him. Bucky freezes. “We should go.”

He feels like he can’t even breathe much less turn around and face the man he hurt. 

“Bucky doesn’t want to see,” Steve hesitates, “us.” _Me,_ he was about to say _me_. He thinks Bucky doesn’t want to see him. Why does he think that? Up until this moment Bucky was sure Steve was only after him because he thinks Bucky is bat shit crazy, and doesn’t remember his own name. Was he wrong?

He turns around to face Steve and it’s a punch to the stomach how beautiful he is.

Wilson cleans his throat just as Bucky opens his mouth. “Whatever is about to happen, you should take it inside.” Then he addresses Steve. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky hears his footsteps as Wilson leaves them alone, and he almost wants to call him back.

Steve doesn’t even spare him a glance before walking back to the house. He is sitting on the sofa when Bucky gets there. Bucky notices Steve has already swept away the broken glass from the window.

Steve doesn’t look at him, and Bucky can’t bear the heavy silence.

“Why d’ya say that? That I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“Because you left me a stupid note,” Steve snaps angrily.

Bucky snorts, “Well, excuse _me_ for asking for help.”

“Help?” Steve frowns at him. And yeah, Bucky remembers this kind of fight. They both talk, neither listens. “ _Forget me, go after Hydra,_ ” Steve quotes. “The hell, Buck?”

“I had to go after Novokov,” Bucky tries to explain quietly.

The fight runs out of Steve as well, “You were there… in Belgium,” he accuses, glancing up with a betrayed look. “I went back to the café.” Ice melts in Bucky’s stomach as Steve talks. “Why didn't you look for me?”

Bucky scoffs. Isn’t it obvious? “Are you serious?” he asks, narrowing his eyes as he stares at Steve. “How could I even look at ya after what I did?”

Steve stands up. “I don't care,” he shouts, raising his hands in a sign of frustration.

“Steve,” Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I tried to kill you,” Bucky reminds him. If there is anybody on Earth that need this kind of reminder that person is standing right in front of him.

“If that's the problem,” Steve shrugs, “I forgive you.”

“Well, _I_ don't,” Bucky shoots back. “Don't you get it? My whole _life_ ,” he points at Steve, “you're the sun I was orbiting around – and then – I do that to you, to _you_ , Steve... I've loved you my whole life. And I hurt you – I… I can't –”

Steve’s features soften instantly; he lets his guard down and asks quietly, “You loved me?”

“No, no, no,” Bucky shakes his head, “that is _not_ what you’re supposed to take from this conversation. Steve –”

“Do you still feel it?” Steve interrupts him, completely ignoring Bucky. That’s Rogers for you.

“What?” Bucky frowns.

“Do you still love me?”

Bucky chuckles, “Well, I suppose the guilt I'm feeling is a pretty good indicator of my –” That is apparently answer enough because then Steve is shutting him up by sealing their mouths together, and Bucky loses track of what he is saying.

Steve’s hands cup his face. The serum keeps them soft, despite years of hard work. His long fingers play with the short hairs behind Bucky’s ears.

“Your hair,” Steve comments and Bucky just knows he is blushing. He averts Steve’s gaze. “I love it. Buck,” Steve waits for him to looks up, “I love you, too.” Bucky tries to get out of his hold, but Steve keeps him in place. “Don’t run, please.”

It breaks something inside of him. Steve never begs. Bucky’s eyes well up. “I – I – I miss you so much, Stevie,” he confesses. He can’t resist this anymore. Steve is holding him and Bucky can’t fight it, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have to. He leans towards Steve not sure he will be accepted. “Can I – can I kiss you?”

There are tears in Steve’s eyes too, they spill when he nods. Bucky tastes the salt when his mouth finds Steve’s. He doesn’t care, it’s perfect. Steve feels just the way he imagined, a lifetime ago. His lips are soft and they part to welcome Bucky’s tongue. He brings his hands to Steve’s neck, the metal makes him shiver. Bucky swallows down his moan.

“Don’t leave me, please,” Steve repeats desperately in between kisses. He runs his hands through Bucky’s hair. “Please.”

Bucky clings to him like a lifeline, now that he has had a taste he is sure he won’t be able to live a day without this; without Steve in his arms, without the feel of his warm hands, and the strong beat of his heart. “I won’t, I swear, I won’t.” He shakes his head. “I’ll never leave you, Stevie. I’m so sorry I did, I’m sorry I hurt you, baby, please, please, forgive me.”

Steve takes a step back to look at him. “You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?” Bucky glances down at his feet. “Buck?”

“William – my nephew,” He glances up and see Steve nodding in confirmation.  “He’s putting together a case. I’m gonna face the music and let a judge decide what I deserve.”

Steve perks up, because he is an optimistic and he is incapable of seeing the down side of things. “I’ll testify for ya, I’ll tell them you’re good people.” He smiles a self-deprecating smile that Bucky immediately wants to wipe it out. “I got plenty of credit, I’m Captain America.”

Bucky shakes his head. “You’re a decent man, that’s enough credit,” he smirks, “tights or not.”

“You’re a jerk, Barnes.”

It’s almost second nature. Bucky smiles at him sweetly and doesn’t leave Steve hanging, “Punk.”

“You think you’ll win?”

Bucky is not sure. It’s a big case, even with all the evidence he gave to William, it still doesn’t erase the fact that it was always him behind the gun. He shrugs. “Whatever happens, I ain’t running. Got myself a family and a fella,” he grins, “lots of reason to stay and fight.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he kisses him again.

-

_One year later…_

“Rogers, what the hell are you burning in my kitchen?” Bucky askes, and Sam tries hard not to laugh at Steve’s dear-caught-in-the-headlights face. But then Barnes turns his murder glare towards him. “I told you to watch him,” he points with a metal finger.

Sam raises his hands in surrender at the same time Steve says “I’m not a dog!”

“Worse,” Barnes shoots back. “You’re a stubborn human.” He nudges Steve away from the stove and turns off the burner. “It’s all taken care of.”

“Geez, Buck. I was just tryna help.”

Bucky gives him a quick peck and Steve blushes like a school kid. It’s awesome and Sam will snap a pic next time he catches it. “Go help the kids set the table. William just texted me to say they’re on the way back.”

“I still don’t get why you told her,” Sam says after Steve goes to the dining room to help Bucky’s great nephew and niece. “What’s wrong with a surprise party? You even took her out of the house.”

Barnes shoots him a look like Sam just grew a second head. “She’s ninety one years old, Wilson. I’m not gonna jump scare my sister.”

“Fair point man,” Sam concedes, “fair point.”

“Plus, they wouldn’t let him in kitchen if otherwise,” Laura says as she passes him to take something from the fridge. William’s wife is one of the most beautiful women Sam has ever seen, she looks like Viola Davis and Sam would totally ask her out if she weren’t married.

“Yeah, that too,” Bucky agrees. He grins at Laura. “Everything alright there? Steve is not giving the kids any hell, is he?” The _kids_ are only a few years younger than Sam, and actually older than Bucky, if you don’t count chronologically. Of course Barnes is only asking because he knows Steve can hear him. The twins love Cap.

“You’re full of shit, Barnes,” Steve shouts from the other room. Bucky giggles.

A smile comes up to Sam’s face almost without his notice. Seeing Steve now no one could tell a year ago he was barely alive. Sam had to watch as he went days without sleeping or eating. And he _did_ try to tell Steve that maybe it was too late more than twice.

Now Sam gets swallow his own words as Steve and the man formerly known as a ghost make doe eyes at each other, and bicker like an old couple. Sam is beyond glad to be proven wrong. If there’s anyone who deserves happiness after the shit they went through is this two.

Laura hands him a bowl to carry to the dining room. Bucky and he follow her there just as the front door opens.

“We’re back,” William announces and seconds later he shows up with his mother and aunt.

“James Buchanan, you better had _not_ destroyed my kitchen,” Alice warns. Sam has to admit he is never really sure if she is joking or not. But then something else catches his attention and he almost lets go of the bowl on his hand.

“I love you, Alice,” Bucky batters his eyelashes at his sister. “Just remember that.”

“I hope you show your love by doing the dishes.”

Rebeca giggles at the scene while Jamie and Audrey help Alice and her to sit down.

Sam is so glad he’s lived long enough to witness this. “James Buchanan,” he mumbles, shaking his head and failing in trying not to laugh.

Barnes glares at him. “I still know how to kill a man with my pinkie, Wilson.”

Steve snorts as he places both hands on Bucky’s shoulders to steer him to his seat at the table. “Settle down, crazy fingers.”

They all take their places. Rebeca asks them to hold hands and close their eyes as she says grace. Sam hold Steve’s on one side and William’s on the other.

“Oh, dear Lord, Thank you for blessing me with this wonderful family,” she begins. “Thank you for bringing my brother and Steve and Mr. Wilson from the war.” Sam squeezes Steve’s hand and gets a squeeze in return. “Thank you for the food we are about to eat. And thank you for one more year with my lovely sister. Amen.”

A choir of Amen’s resonates through the table. Laura sniffs quietly. Around the table the Barnes-Proctor family starts to fill their plates. Sam observes them as he waits for his turn to get the lasagna.

These people really _are_ blessed. Once William presented the facts to a judge Barnes didn’t even have to face a trial. The evidence he gathered was overwhelming and not only he got an official statement from the government, asking for his forgiveness because they didn’t even look for him; he now receives as much back pay as Rogers and they’re both pretty much rich these days.

To top that Bucky’s family is still – almost – all around. Aside from his parents and his sister Mary, who Steve tells him was a bright, but very sick kid, everyone is here. And Barnes’ memory is practically fully restored by this point.

Sam finally gets his lasagna. As he eats he subtly studies Steve and Bucky beside him. They are completely immersed in each other. Bucky leans to say something in Steve’s ear and whatever he says causes Steve to chuckle and blush. It’s a shame Sam left his phone in the living room.

Barnes catches him staring and Sam shrugs before averting his eyes. He can’t help it, he is happy. This is a good family getting their well-deserved happy ending. And right after they sing happy birthday Alice stands up.

“I would like to thank you all for coming here today,” she begins, and they all stay silent, knowing she is not finished. “For years my brother has been a sore spot for me,” she exchange a glance with Bucky and he smirks at her. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Alice steals another glance at her brother and Sam realizes Barnes is probably the only one there who knows what she is talking about. By looking at everyone around Sam can see he is not the only one at a lost.

“You see,” Alice goes on, “my brother is a homosexual,” she says bluntly and William’s kids snort, whereas Laura looks slightly mortified. Sam is pretty sure she is afraid the old lady will start spewing prejudice. Since he doesn’t know the Barnes’ all that much, Sam is also scared. Nevertheless nobody interrupts her. “And for so long,” she sighs, “I thought that couldn’t be.”

Around the table Alice’s family turns serious and a little bit sad. Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand again.

“But, you see,” Alice wrings her hands nervously. She seeks Bucky’s eyes and he gives her a nod. “I was wrong. It wasn’t bad,” she shakes her head, “it was never bad that Bucky loved Steve. But for a long time that’s what I thought, and I suffered for it,” her voice breaks and so does Sam’s heart.

Here is this lady, coming to terms with her brother’s sexuality after such a long time. Sam is just glad he is not the only one getting emotional from Alice’s speech.

“Well,” Alice straightens her spine as best as she can. Sam can see by the corner of his eye that Bucky has a huge smile on his face as he looks at her. The rest of them remains confused. “I’ve decided to no longer live under this suffering. I do not want it and I do not have to endure it.” She turns to Rebeca then, “And I know you’ll support me because you did it for James and he’s killed people.”

Besides Sam William chokes on the water he was drinking.

“Support you in what, dear?” Rebeca asks.

“I will no longer live a lie,” Alice says instead of answering. Then she drops the bomb. “I am also a homosexual.” She remains serious and tense for the few seconds it takes for her to look around the table. When Alice notices her entire family – aside from Bucky – has their jaws down she starts to laugh.

“This is the best family reunion I’ve ever been,” William’s son comments to his sister after they all unfreeze.

When Alice sits down again Sam hears Bucky softly talking to her. “I’m really proud of ya.” He doesn’t catch her answer.

Someone should be registering this moment but they are all still a bit stunned, and Sam will not leave his place in case there are more revelations. Sam was right, these people are freaking blessed.

And the icing topping the cake – not the one they are eating though – is that Sam knows something else none of the Barnes or Proctors knows.

A month from now, when it's Barnes’ turn to blow out the candles…

Steve is going to propose.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2VZTvk8VF8


End file.
